Who We Are
by Sharingan-Youkai
Summary: Capt. Marcus S. Jane, U.S Marine, Special Forces. Codename; ARES. Function; Anti-Zeus Weapon. Yeah, someone really should have told him that, instead of trying to control him. Eventual SLASH Alex/OC Bad summary I know. Disregards Prototype 2.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Yeah, this fic was inspired by CleverDucky's Sanctum! It's an awesome Prototype fic, I highly recommend it, that piece of work most definitely has my official Youkai stamp of approval. It's SLASH, much like this one, just a heads up for those who don't do that kind of thing. Yes, Ducky I did just shamelessly advertise your fic XD It is one of the few fics that I've read, that I will read more than once. Ok, I'll move on before everyone gets bored, or the more likely happenstance of **_**me **_**getting bored, which will result in this fic not getting written to completion, like so many others of mine –face palms- I do apologise for that by the way…**

**I do not own Prototype, no it belongs to the assholes known as Activision, whom I am not happy with at the moment. I do however own my OC's Marcus, Twitch, Murphy, Tank, Golfer, Adams, Rigsby and Scotty.**

**IMPORTANT**

**(This note has SPOILERS for Prototype 2)**

**This fic completely disregards the sequel, it takes place a little after the first game. Consider it a kind of A.U. I'm in the process of owning Prototype 2, and I can't say I like the plot line for it, I hate James Heller, like his attitude, but hate his reasons and mission. I also hate the writers for their plot-fuckery. I am aware he was never really the GOOD guy, but he was never really the BAD guy either. Middle-Ground Alex is cool, Out-To-Destroy-The-World-Because-He-Hates-Humans Alex is even better, but the writers can still suck my metaphorical dick for killing him off –flips Activision the bird-**

**WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC! **_**Lots of swearing, lots of violence, lots and lots and LOTS of bloodshed and gore, monsters, zombies, human experimentation, drug use, disturbing/horrific scenes, mild weirdness, a smidgen of humour, eventual SLASH with lemons, (I've never actually done a fic with more than one lemon in it, kinda weird of me O.o) and possibly a few more that I can't name now…because I don't know what my brain is going to put in this thing. **_

_**. . .  
. . .**_

_**We were the ones who weren't afraid, we were the broken hearted, we were the scars that wouldn't fade away…**_

_**Chapter One;**_

I honestly don't know what inspired such obvious dislike from whatever Gods happened to be tuning into the events of my life. I was a good kid, I ate all of my green vegetables, I helped my mother with the dishes after dinner, I went to church with my mother every Sunday. I was even a good man, I joined the U.S Military to fight for my Country, to save lives and help those that couldn't help themselves. I sent the majority of my pay back home to pay for my little sister's education, since I was the only one who could after our parent's deaths.

I'm a good man, really.

So why the fucking hell did this happen to me?

I am Captain Marcus S. Jane, U.S Special Ops, this is my story;

This is how my life went from average to FUBAR, this is how I became what I am today, this is how I inadvertently saved a whole shit heap of lives, this is how I met the man behind the Virus. This is how I died.

* * *

"You have your orders gentlemen, now move it!"

Marcus sighed as he stood from his bench, exiting the Black Hawk with the rest of his squad. He couldn't help but grimace as he was hit with a blast of warm air carrying the stench of death and decay. He and his squad had been deployed down to Base 76, a military compound located directly in the middle of the largest Red Zone in all of Manhattan. Large, reinforced concrete walls boxed the compound in, each of the walls four corners bearing massive anti-air craft torrents specially rigged to take out even the largest of Infected that dared try to encroach onto their territory. There was a large perimeter fenced off outside the walls, keeping most of the Infected citizens away from the compound proper.

Heavily armed Sentries patrolled the compounds walls and outer perimeter, further securing those within.

Marcus was starting to wish he'd said no to that damned pay check. But alas, he'd taken the offer to set his adorable little sister up for a comfy life back in Arizona.

"_The trick will be surviving this fucking hell on Earth." _Marcus thought moodily as he shouldered his rifle, trooping after his squad mates. When they entered the main entrance of the compound Marcus had to wonder just why it had to be Base 76 of all Bases, 76 was rapidly becoming famous for its constant fluctuations in personnel counts. One week there would be exactly one hundred Military personnel and fifty squints. The next week the compounds population count was less than half that.

"_If I get Infected here, I am so fucking eating Rigsby's face, the asshole." _Marcus thought, shooting silent laser beams at his CO, who walked calmly in front of his squad, leading them to their quarters. Sergeant Sean Rigsby, Marcus' commanding officer, the man who had offered him the reassignment to Base 76, generally a great guy, easy to get along with, makes good conversation, became a sadistic and hell vindictive mother fucker when so much as a drop of blood landed on his favourite boots. Which was completely crazy, considering he walked through the shit every day. The man made no sense what so ever whenever he was in one of his _moods _and no one was ever game enough to question it, especially not Marcus, not after he'd been ordered to strip naked and perform ten sets of drills on line up, in front of his squad mates… while singing the National Anthem.

That incident was on Youtube, courtesy of Twitch, he was sure.

He trailed behind his squad, who were led through a set of double doors and into what appeared to be a decent sized Mess Hall.

"This, ladies, is where you will be eating for the remainder of your stay here on Base 76, Base wide briefings will also take place here should one be needed. This way to the sleeping quarters, Jane! Stop your lollygagging and get those feet moving!" Rigsby shouted as his squad obediently trooped ahead. Marcus cursed himself for letting his thoughts distract him and quickly moved forward, catching up with his squad.

"And this is where you will be sleeping. The beds are yours to squabble over, I don't care. Showers are through that door, there is nothing even remotely like hot water in the entirety of this compound, and I don't want to hear a single peep out of you about it! Now, foods served in 30, lights are off at 1900 hours. Behave yourselves. Or the Infected will be the least of your worries." Rigsby finished, settling them with a promising glare, with that, he turned on his heel and headed for the hall, at the doors he paused, turning to face them once more. "And remember, ladies!" All eyes went back to Rigsby. "I'll be watching you." He demonstrated his point my pointing at his eyes, then to them, and Marcus felt a snort escape his lips as the questionably sane Sergeant about faced once more and left.

"Well…that was fun." Twitch said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he tossed his duffle bag onto his chosen bunk. Marcus glanced at his squad mate, who was now fending off Golfer as the smaller man tried to weasel his way onto his bunk.

"Dun' start Twitch, s'been eh long day eh?" Murphy groaned, his thick Irish accent causing Twitch to snicker as he shoved Golfer onto the floor. Marcus ignored his bickering squad mates in favour of claiming his own bunk next to the largest of his squad. Tank was a heavily built African American with a completely contradictory personality. The larger male was named Tank for a reason, on the battlefield the man was a one man army in hand to hand, and walked around with a shoulder mounted machine gun most of the time. But when there was no fighting to be done, Tank was content to sit back wherever he could to read his cheesy romance novels without ever saying a word.

Marcus preferred Tank's company over anyone else's, because he didn't inspire the urge to strangle like the others did most of the time, Twitch especially.

"I don't like this place guys. Did any of you even ask _why _we were brought here?" Adams asked from his place on his own bunk by the door. Marcus snorted as he rolled onto his back.

"You aren't paid to ask questions Marine!" He shouted in a mockery of Sergeant Rigsby's 'drill voice', earning a spattering of snorts all over the quarters. Golfer, who had pulled himself off the floor and onto his own bunk scrubbed a hand over his head.

"This place has its own ghost story man, if the pay wasn't so damned good I'd be kicking back on a beach watching me some babes. But fuck is the pay good!" Golfer laughed, earning himself a few annoyed stares from the room. Twitch threw his boot at Golfer, earning a squawk of displeasure from the brunette Coms. Expert.

"Shut your hole Golfer, it's bad enough we're stuck here in this fucking cereal bowl, we don't need your trap flapping the whole time, you damn perv." The red headed Vehicle Specialist growled.

"Oh both of yeh shut yer traps!" Murphy groaned from his place buried under his pillow. Adams grinned and shared a wink with Twitch.

"What's the matter Murph, miss out on your morning bake?" Adams teased. Everyone laughed as Murphy threw his pillow aside and tackled the dark haired Techy.

Marcus snorted and rolled over, burying his face in his pillow.

"_This is going to be fan-fucking-tastic." _He mumbled in his head before dozing off.

* * *

Three weeks, three fucking _weeks_.

Marcus didn't know whether to fist pump in victory or shoot himself in the head out of sheer dismay. He and his squad mates had survived three hellish weeks on Base 76, it was a new record according to the higher ups. With only one more week left on their assignment, they'd be the first squad to live through their posting before getting sent home for a well-deserved vacation. Again, he didn't know whether to be excited or annoyed.

One more week.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

He hated this shit hole.

To make matters even more interesting, they'd been forcefully assigned a seventh squad mate. A complete stranger to the close knit Squad, a complete fucking _noob _of all things. Fresh out of basic, as green as grass, and soon to be as dead as a damn door nail if he didn't stop _dropping his equipment_.

Jim, he introduced himself as, Scotty he was dubbed. Cannon fodder Scotty, who somehow managed to weasel his way into Murphy's good graces. Maybe it was the accent? An Irishmen and a Scotsman, what was this world coming to? The jokes between them were enough to make him want to walk out onto a mine field. Two peas in a pod, those two, yeesh.

Noobs aside, Marcus was beginning to think Base 76 was indeed its own ghost story, he swore the shit hole was haunted. When he asked Rigsby about the eyes he felt watching him all the time, he was brushed aside and told to stop being so God damned paranoid.

Adams, the ass, started whispering conspiracy theories into the dark of night while they all listened with half an annoyed ear from their bunks. Twitch started the 'Big Brother' theme, which seemed to bloody _stick_ after the higher ups neither confirmed nor denied it. So, with gleeful enthusiasm Twitch set himself the task of creeping everyone the fuck out, 'big brother is watching you…in the showers.' Yeah, no one blamed him when he jammed a bar of soap into the idiot's mouth.

One more outside job, one more trip out into the red, zombie infested streets before they could spend the rest of their week patrolling the compound walls. One more briefing, one more job. Nothing too flash, just a quick and easy sweep around the block so they could widen their perimeter and slowly retake the city. .Job.

Easy as basic.

* * *

"Alright, listen up Marines. You are about to be sent out into the jaws of hell, and yes, I am aware you've all heard this speech before, but you are going to hear it again whether you like it or not!" Rigsby shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls of the mess hall. "Alpha Squad! You will be conducting a sweep of area 9, there's been reports of minor infected activity there so look sharp and clean em out."

"Sir!"

Rigsby flipped a page on his clipboard. "Beta Squad, you will be cleaning out area 3. Get it done." Another page. "Gamma! Sweep and clean area 5."

"Sir!"

Marcus zoned out as Rigsby continued, sending out other squads for their final sweep. The next rotations would continue the job by expanding the fences, thank god he wouldn't be here for that short straw. He was jolted out of his thoughts when his squad was called.

"Delta! You will be sweeping area 8, there have been reports of Hunter activity there. Tank, I want you loaded up for this one. Zeta will be joining you as backup as soon as they're done with area 7, all within the hour. Stay frosty gentlemen."

Marcus sighed as a feeling of dread overtook him.

"_Good thing I wrote to Stacy last night."_ He thought, fingering the photo of his baby sister that he kept in his breast pocket.

"Alright ladies, move it out!"

"UH-RA!"

One more trip.

Just one.

He could do this.

* * *

"This is so fucking creepy." Twitch said, voice bouncing off the alley walls on either side of them. They'd been in area 8 for twenty minutes, and they hadn't seen hide nor hair of any infected since they entered. It was all just too quiet for a hotspot. The streets were completely deserted.

"Keep it down Twitch." Tank murmured quietly from behind the group, his heavy machine gun resting easily on his large shoulder. The group of seven continued on in silence, three paces apart in single file, weapons held ready, safeties off. Marcus was in the lead with Murphy and Scotty directly behind him, Golfer and Twitch in the middle with Adams and finally Tank pulling up the rear.

Marcus resisted the urge to pull at his uniform as he continued out onto the deserted road, rust coloured sunlight streaming in through the red haze clouding the sky. His black uniform was doing its best to cook him, Marcus decided as he tossed a glare up at the sun through his not quite standard issue ray-bans.

"Hey hey, guys listen to this. A pirate walks into a bar with a steering wheel attached to the front of his pants. The bartender asks 'What's with the wheel mate?' and the pirate answ-"

"Twitch, shut the fuck up." Golfer groaned from behind Scotty, who snorted as he checked his sights. Twitch glared before continuing anyway.

"The pirate answers. 'Argh, its driving me nuts!" He finished, and let loose a stream of guffaws that had Marcus grinding his teeth.

"Twitch!" Adams and Tank hissed at the same time. Twitch threw his hands into the air, M16 and all.

"What? You guys need to lighten up some." The red head tossed over his shoulder as he continued on. Marcus felt sweat drip down the back of his neck as he checked the rooftops, the lack of any enemies was putting him on edge.

"Seriously though, where the fuck is everyone? No people, no infected, fuck there ain't even any _birds _and those things are usually fucking everywh-"

"Twitch, I'm not telling you again." Adams growled as Tank rubbed his face. Murphy and Scotty snorted between themselves behind Marcus, who was sure he'd worn his teeth down he was grinding them so hard.

"Fine fine, bunch of fucking stiffs, the lot of you." Twitch grumbled as he looked around.

"You know Twitch, you really need to-" Marcus tuned Scotty out as the noob lectured Twitch, not at all interested in the argument that was going to cause as he again checked the rooftops. This just wasn't right, nothing about this situation was right at all. Zeta Squad was supposed to meet up with them in half an hour, but at this rate it didn't look like that'd be necessary, because there just _wasn't anything here_.

Where were the Walkers that usually inhabited these areas? Where were the Hunters that were reported to be here? Fuck, there weren't even any new bodies lying around. And Twitch was right, there were usually crows all over red zones, yet there was _nothing_ and it was making Marcus very, very nervous.

"-Oh shut the fuck up Scotty, you don't even know what the ass end of a-"

Marcus whipped the sweat from his face onto his shoulder, trying his best to ignore his squabbling squad mates. The sound of movement reached his straining ears, and Marcus' body went as tense as a bowstring, weapon raised as a bright blue eye stared down the sights, instantly zeroing in on the innocent plastic bag that floated down the sidewalk. A shaky breath rattled past his cracked lips.

"Jeez Marcus, what tha hell's wrong with yeh?" Murphy suddenly pipped up from behind him, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin.

"Nothing." He hissed back, leading the group onward up the road. Murphy snorted.

"Yer full'a shit ain't ya? Yer as jumpy as a freakin' bunny." The Irishmen stated. Marcus glowered at him over his shoulder, the effect lost on account of his blue eyes being hidden behind his ray-bans.

"Am I the only one whose fucking noticed this shit?" He asked, tone disbelieving. He stopped walking, and his squad followed his example, everyone leaning out of line slightly to stare at him.

"Noticed what man?" Golfer asked. Marcus snarled silently.

"There's nothing here." He hissed venomously. Twitch snorted.

"I pointed that shit out ages ago man." He said. Marcus raised a slender blond brow.

"I don't mean infected, I don't mean your freaking _birds _Twitch, I mean there is _nothing." _He stressed. "Has anyone noticed the peculiar lack of gunfire?" He asked suddenly, casually. Everyone paused. He continued "There are at least ten squads out there, sweeping the streets. Cleaning out the infected. I haven't heard a single fucking gunshot since we got here, we'd be able to _hear _them if they were cleaning out!" He thundered, causing Scotty to jump nearly six feet in the air. Twitch raised a finger to speak, but paused.

"Shit man, he's right." Twitch muttered, dropping his hand. Marcus threw his arms into the air.

"Thank you!" He crowed, finally someone gets it. "Alright." He started whipping his face. "We'll continue the sweep, Golfer, radio in, tell them the situation." He said, turning back to the road to continue the sweep. Golfer saluted behind his back and unclipped his radio to begin relaying the lack of _anything _in the area.

A shadow suddenly passed over Marcus' head, causing him to snap his face and gun up to the rooftops. "Eyes up, eyes up!" He hissed, drawing everyone's attention to the rooftops. A solid thud sounded behind them and Marcus span on his heel quicker than his squad could lower their weapons to face the alley they had come out of a few minutes ago. Dirt and leaves swirled around the air near the entrance. Marcus grit his teeth again.

"This is fucking creepy." Twitch muttered, his voice slightly muffled as he pressed his cheek into the side of his gun.

"No shit." Murphy agreed, checking the rooftops again. A few seconds later Marcus got the sudden instinctual urge to look up. He did, and promptly screeched as a crow swooped into his face, knocking him on his ass. The black bird cawed its annoyance as it flew off, leaving Marcus on his ass with a few new scratches on his cheek while his squad laughed at him.

"There's your bird Twitch." Golfer said, grinning. Twitch fist pumped while Murphy shook his head. Scotty lowered a hand to help him up, and Marcus snorted before grabbing the offered hand to be hauled to his feet.

"I fucking hate birds." Marcus sulked as he dusted off his ass. Adams snorted.

"And it looks like the feelings mutual." He said, pointing to the cuts on his cheek. Marcus grimaced as he rubbed the blood off his face.

"Tank, where are we at?" He asked as he picked his ray-bans up off the road, where they had fallen when the crow attacked his face. Silence answered him and he frowned. "Tank?" He looked back to the end of the group, and froze when he didn't see the large man. "Tank?" He called again, louder. The others turned as well, each one of them expressing their shock and concern at not finding their largest squad mate where they'd left him.

"Fucking shit, man." Twitch growled, holding his weapon tighter between his hands. Marcus inwardly seethed as he trudged past his team and back to the alley where the dust still floated around the air.

"Tank!" He called, pointing his M16 into the alley. His breath stopped in his throat as he spotted splashes of red littering the alleys walls. They hadn't been there when they'd passed through it. "Look lively men." He ground out, entering the alley. Murphy followed up close behind him with Scotty practically in the man's back pocket. Twitch and Golfer glanced at each other before following after them.

"Where the hell is Zeta?" Adams asked from behind them all. "They should have fucking met up with us by now." The Tech hissed. Marcus ignored him in favour of laying his sights on the corner of the alley, where he'd glimpsed a flash of claw. He rounded the corner quickly, finger ready to squeeze the trigger as he scanned the street. He frowned at not finding anything, and he inwardly cursed his bad luck.

"Hey hey! Come quick!" Everyone jumped at Scotty's shout and all turned, trying to find the kid. "Over here!" He called, and Marcus turned around and stared in shock at the noob that was on the _other_ side of the street, pointing at something behind an over turned car.

"Scotty, get back here!" Adams hissed at the same time Twitch laughed about his 'freaky ninja skills'. Marcus motioned for his squad to cross the street, but before they could take a single step a large, mutated claw appeared from around the corner, right behind Scotty who was too busy looking at them to see it coming.

"Scotty duck!" Marcus roared as he and the others charged across the street. The kid, unlike so many other green grasses didn't even question it, dropping to the ground before the words had even finished leaving his mouth. It saved his life. The claw swooped though the air where Scotty's head had been, and the kid was scuttling forward on all fours before it had finished its attack. Murphy all but bear hugged the kid when he came within reach, swooping the other male off the ground and depositing him behind the squad as Adams and Golfer charged around the corner with Marcus hot on their heels, leaving Twitch and Murphy to guard the hyperventilating Scotty.

When Marcus swung around the corner he expected to be met with a sneaky Hunter. But when he swung around the corner he was instead met with a face full of Golfer as the man flew back into him, sending them both to the ground as the sound of gunfire echoed eerily off the deserted street walls.

"Ger'off!" Marcus snarled, struggling under Golfer's winded body as the smaller male groaned and rolled off of him. Marcus shoved him the rest of the way off and ordered him back to Murphy. With that he grabbed up his fallen M16 and sped back around the corner to once again be surprised. He cursed colourfully as he opened fire on the Hunter pinning Twitch to the ground, gaining its attention as a s_econd _Hunter landed hard a few yards ahead of him.

"Ah, fuck." Marcus huffed as he turned tail and ran, both Hunters howling in glee as they chased after him. _"Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!" _Was the mantra running through his head as Marcus stumbled around another street corner, sprinting with everything he had, leading the Hunters away from his squad. He barrelled around another corner and threw himself through a window into a small takeout shop, rolling along the floor in a shower of glass. He sprang to his feet and hurtled through the small shop, hearing the heavy thud of a Hunter impacting the tiled floor behind him. He hurtled up three steps and ran straight into a door. He cursed and shoved at it, gripping and turning the handle repeatedly as he frantically smashed his body into its solid surface. Instincts screamed at him and threw himself to the side as the Hunter slammed into the door, breaking right through it to roll out onto the main street with a roar.

Marcus jumped out of the hole the Hunter had thoughtfully made for him and jumped over its downed form, dodging its claws as it swiped at him. "Too slow mother fucker!" He cackled hysterically as he pegged it up the sidewalk, only to shriek in alarm as the second Hunter landed solidly in front of him, having taken the rooftops over the small takeout shop. He unloaded an entire clip into the beasts face, causing it to howl in pain, effectively distracting it. He turned on his heel and booked it for the nearest alley way, reloading his M16 as he ran, cursing frantically as his radio screamed at him to double back for cover fire.

Just as the Hunter slammed into the wall behind him his weapon jammed, letting him know that running and reloading was never a good idea. "Fucking fuck!" He howled, throwing his weapon aside to better dodge and run as the Hunter tried its very best to smack him into the pavement.

He hurtled around yet another corner and continued up the street at full speed, jumping onto the hood of a car, then its roof as he went, throwing himself forward and onto the roof of another close by car, finding it quicker than trying to navigate around the sudden influx of tightly packed cars with the Hunter hot on his ass.

He had just tripped over the coloured lights of a police car when he realised the street behind him was oddly silent. Sprawled on the hot surface of the road, Marcus scuttled backwards and parked himself under the police car, clamping a hand over his mouth to muffle his violent panting. A few seconds ticked by in silence before a Hunter suddenly slammed into the ground not twenty feet away from his hiding place, sniffing the air and grunting as it looked around with its massive, eyeless head. It let loose an enraged howl after a moment, before jumping back onto the rooftops, where it was joined by its buddy. Marcus watched, blue eyes wide with fright as the two Hunters disappeared from sight entirely. He remained under the police car until the only sound he could hear was his heart hammering in his ears.

Another few minutes ticked by, and finally Marcus allowed himself to breath in the air he so desperately needed to calm his burning lungs. "Holy shit." He panted, rubbing his face. After he had regained his breath, Marcus wiggled around under the car, reaching for the radio attached to his hip. A second ticked by when his hand grabbed air, and Marcus felt another hysteric cackle bubbling in his throat when he realised that yes, his radio was gone, and he had tossed his only decent weapon back in the alley, leaving him with his pissy little magnum, a grenade, a flashlight and a packet of skittles. "Damn it." He muttered after a moment spent reigning in his hysteria. "Pull yourself together Jane." He growled, before worming his way out from under the car. He climbed to his feet, dusting himself off as he did so before reaching behind him and drawing his own personal silver magnum. "Keep it frosty." He told himself before slowly walking forward, ears and eyes straining for any sign of those Hunters.

He groaned pitifully when he heard the shrieking of Walkers behind him. "Why now, why me?" He asked the red sky as he gripped his gun. Without even turning to see how far away the infected people were, he heaved in a breath and broke into another dead sprint. Working his way back to where he had left his squad mates.

A moment later, after jumping over many cars, setting off many alarms and almost running into corners as he rounded them, Marcus could finally hear the loud and obnoxious voice of Twitch, who was currently moaning about 'boss man getting himself lost'.

He grinned as he ran, and rounded one final corner at full tilt, desperate to get back to his squad so he could drag them back to the relative safety of Base 76. He rounded the corner and promptly exhaled any and all air in his lungs as he ran smack into something that felt suspiciously like a padded brick wall.

He flew backwards and hit the pavement hard, effectively bruising his back and more than likely giving himself a concussion as his head connected solidly with the ground. He lay there for a few beats, then groaned. "Ow." He slowly peeled himself off the sidewalk, shaking hand rubbing the back of his throbbing head. He forced himself to look up, head swimming, to see what the hell he had ran into.

Any breath he had regained promptly left him in an airy whoosh as he locked eyes with someone entirely out of place in this shit hole. His concussed brain tried to pull together a coherent thought at the tingle of recognition that tickled the back of his mind at the sight of the black leather jacket and blue jeans.

"_W-where have I seen this mother fucker before?" _He thought dazedly, staring up into eyes more silver than blue, set into a pale face that more than likely belonged in some sort of women's magazine. He stared almost drunkenly as his head throbbed and warmth trickled down the back of his neck. "Come here often?" He said, not even realising the words had actually come from him until a slender brunette brow disappeared behind a raised hood. Another second ticked by, and suddenly movement drew Marcus' gaze from pools of liquid silver to a swirl of black and red, and suddenly he was staring at a massive sword that decidedly looked awesome to his concussed brain. _"…Wait a minute." _The black dots finally disappeared from his memory, and he stared at the sword with dawning horror and slight disappointment. _"Sorry Stacy." _He thought as the blade rose. His brain throbbed dangerously as the back of his jacket turned red and he snorted dazedly as he glanced back up into liquid silver. "Why is it always the good looking ones." He thought sardonically as he clenched his eyes shut, waiting for death.

A second ticked by, and he cracked open his right eye to stare at the silver, black and red sword a hairs breadth away from his nose. _"Huh?" _He thought in shock, before the sudden bark of gun fire knocked his brain back online just in time to see the blade and its wielder disappear with a whoosh of displaced air.

"Yer yeh better run ya fuhckin oveh grown germ!" The thick Irish accent drew his dazed eyes to find none other than Murphy, brandishing Tanks massive machine gun of all things.

"Murph?" He asked dreamily. Murphy blinked at him in shock.

"Marcus? Shi' man, yeh realise wha' jus' nearly 'appened?" The Irishmen asked, accent thicker in his shock. Marcus shrugged slowly and Murphy dropped the massive machine gun to kneel by his side. Marcus blinked when he felt hands brushing over his head, before settling on the base of his skull. "Eh shi'." The Irishmen cursed as his hand came away bloody. Marcus started numbly at the blood coating his friends hand.

"I heard shots, was it those Hunters again!" Twitch suddenly appeared behind Murphy. "Oh shit, Marcus? Damn man, we thought you were Hunter chow." The red head said, grinning. Murphy turned around and shoved the man.

"Get Golfer, tell 'im to radio in. We got'a Zeus sightin' in area 8." Twitch froze, brown eyes wide.

"Zeus? Seriously? Shit man, is that why he looks so out of it?"

Marcus blinked dazedly, then scowled. "That fuckers got pecs of steel." He drawled, before promptly passing out.

* * *

**A/N Done, thats the first chapter. Please review and let me know what you think! I haven't really been writing in a while so please forgive any errors. Murphy's speech is no mispelled, its just my take on an irish accent XD Any questions? Review or P.M, ideas? Do the same. Looking forward to feedback folks! **

**What did you think Ducky?**

**My OC's are just that, MINE!**

**Marcus S. Jane; An OC of mine from years ago. Appearance is based on Cloud Strife, minus the hair style. Personality is actually based on mine XD**

**Sergeat Sean Rigsby; Based sort of on my take of a stereo typical drill sergeant XD **

**Golfer; Inspired by Portman from Doom.**

**Tank; Half inspired by Destroyer from Doom, half inspired by Teal'c from Star Trek.**

**Twitch; Based on an old friend of mine named Jack. **

**Adams; Named after my brother, but inspired by Patrick Jane from The Mentalist. **

**Scotty; Based on Carmen from Gears Of War. Noobs all around.**

**Again, questions? Just ask me. Ideas? Tell me, always glad for help!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N I'm so excited! –Vibrates in seat-**

**I do not own Prototype, no it belongs to the assholes known as Activision, whom I am not happy with at the moment. I do however own my OC's Marcus, Twitch, Murphy, Tank, Golfer, Adams, Rigsby and Scotty.**

**IMPORTANT**

**(This note has SPOILERS for Prototype 2)**

**This fic completely disregards the sequel, it takes place a little after the first game. Consider it a kind of A.U. I'm in the process of owning Prototype 2, and I can't say I like the plot line for it, I hate James Heller, like his attitude, but hate his reasons and mission. I also hate the writers for their plot-fuckery. I am aware he was never really the GOOD guy, but he was never really the BAD guy either. Middle-Ground Alex is cool, Out-To-Destroy-The-World-Because-He-Hates-Humans Alex is even better, but the writers can still suck my metaphorical dick for killing him off –flips Activision the bird-**

**WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC! **_**Lots of swearing, lots of violence, lots and lots and LOTS of bloodshed and gore, monsters, zombies, human experimentation, drug use, disturbing/horrific scenes, mild weirdness, a smidgen of humour, eventual SLASH with lemons, (I've never actually done a fic with more than one lemon in it, kinda weird of me O.o) and possibly a few more that I can't name now…because I don't know what my brain is going to put in this thing. **_

_**. . .**_

**Previously; **

**Marcus stared numbly at the blood coating his friends hand. **

"**I heard shots, was it those Hunters again!" Twitch suddenly appeared behind Murphy. "Oh shit, Marcus? Damn man, we thought you were Hunter chow." The red head said, grinning. Murphy turned around and shoved the man. **

"**Get Golfer, tell 'im to radio in. We got'a Zeus sightin' in area 8." Twitch froze, brown eyes wide. **

"**Zeus? Seriously? Shit man, is that why he looks so out of it?"**

**Marcus blinked dazedly, then scowled. "That fuckers got pecs of steel." He drawled, before promptly passing out.**

* * *

_**How did we let go, how did we forget that we don't have to hide, we won't believe the lies again, we won't be paralyzed…**_

_**Chapter Two;**_

When Marcus came too, it was to the sound of an irritating beeping, right in his ear. He groaned as he attempted to roll over, only to yelp as something sharp pulled at his right hand. Turning and opening his eyes, Marcus stared down at his hand uncomprehendingly. A moment passed by before he realized there was an I.V sticking out of his hand and that no, he wasn't imagining it. Blond brows furrowed as he stared at the thin clear tubing running from his hand up to an I.V bag just above his head. The beeping was the heart monitor right next to the I.V, each beep steady and strong, matching his heart perfectly.

"_Why am I hooked up to this crap? And why do I feel like I've been run over by an angry mob?" _Marcus thought to himself dazedly. And angry throbbing in his head made itself known and Marcus groaned again, laying back down to rub his face with his left hand. He really did feel like crap. His head hurt, his legs hurt, his back hurt, _everything_ hurt.

He was just looking for a caller button or something to get someone's attention when the door to his right suddenly swung open, admitting none other than Twitch, who took one look at him and crowed, before lunging onto his bed and thoroughly crushing his legs.

"You're awake!" Twitch announced too loudly for his brain to handle, causing him to groan pitifully as he absently tried to kick Twitch off his bed. "Seriously man, you had us all freaked when we got the details from-"

"Twitch, shut up man, my head hurts." Marcus mumbled, rubbing his eye. The red head started at him for a moment, before suddenly bolting out of the room, leaving behind a grateful but confused Captain. Not three minutes later and the man was back again, with several others in tow.

"Holy shit, it's awake!" Adams exclaimed as he caught sight of the bed ridden Marine, a large grin splitting his face. Scotty shoved past the taller male and threw himself onto Marcus' waist.

"I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have broken formation, and the Hunter-" Scotty's babbling was interrupted by the unusually breezy form of Murphy, who grabbed the kid by the back of his shirt and dragged him off Marcus to deposit him in a chair next to his bed.

"Relax." The Irishmen huffed as he leaned on the edge of his bed. Marcus remained silent as he stared at his squad mates, noticing the absence of their largest member with dread.

"Where's Tank?" He asked. All eyes turned to him, then shifted to the other side of the room, and Marcus tracked their gaze to another bed with a large white blob buried in blankets on its surface.

"We found him while we were carrying your unconscious ass back to Base. He hasn't woken up since, Docs say there's a high possibility he won't make it." Golfer said softly from his position by the door. Adams nodded next to him.

"We still don't know what happened to him." The Tech said, folding his arms. The room went silent, save for the beeping of his heart monitor. Twitch suddenly straightened and shot him a wide eyed stare.

"So what was it like?" He asked, drawing everyone's attention back to him. Marcus frowned in confusion.

"What was what like?" He asked, entirely baffled by the looks of awe and shock that were being directed at him. Twitch gaped at him. "You're fucking shitting me! The first guy ever to come nose to nose with the big bad and live, doesn't even fucking remember!" The red head exclaimed. Marcus winced at the volume as his head throbbed its displeasure.

"Big bad?" He asked, still confused. Everyone stared at him, and Adams snorted.

"Go fucking figure." The Tech groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as everyone else stared at him like he was retarded. "You've got Black Watch's panties in a twist because you survived an encounter with Zeus. They're asking all kinds of questions." Adams explained. Marcus felt his brows scrunch up.

"Zeus? As in the infected dude that's to be killed on site? The dude responsible for the Redlight outbreak?" He asked, not really getting where this was going. Murphy snorted.

"Tha' ain't no regular 'dude' laddie, no 'dude' I know can turn their arm int'a damn sword, nor jump sixty feet in the air." The older male said, shaking his head. Marcus stared at him as it slowly came back to him, piece by piece. The Hunter attack, his running off and getting separated from his squad, running into a wa-

"Fucking hell." He groaned as it all hit him. "No wonder I hurt." He groaned, burying his face into his hands. Scotty suddenly bounced up from his chair.

"So, what was it like? Did he say anything?" The noob asked. All eyes went back to him, curious. Marcus opened and closed his mouth for a moment.

"No…I don't think so…I mean. I just ran into the guy, literally actually…it was like hitting a damn brick wall." He grumbled, rubbing his chest. Twitch suddenly snorted a laugh.

"According to Murph the first thing out of your mouth when he found you was a comment on his, what was it Murph?" Twitch asked, slapping the Irish Marine's shoulder. Murphy snorted as he pulled on his most dazed face, adding a sway to his upper body as he waved a hand around his face.

"That fuckers go' pecs o' steel." He slurred in mockery of an apparently very out of it Marcus, who scowled, insulted as everyone cracked up.

"Guy meets Zeus, guy comments on Zeus' man boobs. What the fuck is wrong with you?" Golfer howled, slapping his knee as he bent over, laughing. Marcus scowled harder.

"It felt like I'd head butted a fucking brick wall!" He defended, throwing his hand up. "Christ, are all infected built like that?"

* * *

"Well, you check out. No broken bones, your concussion is gone, no internal injuries…And no sign of infection, Redlight or otherwise. You're free to go." The Doctor said as Marcus pulled his shirt back on, wincing as the bruising along his back twinged. The doctor hummed at that. "Yes, I'm putting you on light duties until your rotation in four days, I recommend you take it easy on yourself until then. You can go." The words hadn't even finished leaving the man's mouth before Marcus was out the door.

Making his way to his squad's quarters Marcus thought back on his brief stay in the medical ward. He'd been run through so many tests he'd felt like a lab rat as they tested him for any sign of Infection and just about everything the squints could think up. Some of them were shocked he didn't show any sign of Infection, considering he'd actually come into physical contact with 'Zeus', who was actually not a terrorist at all, but _The _Redlight Virus giving human form. Or something like that, Marcus hadn't really been paying that much attention to what was being said around him, no he'd only had eyes for the massive needle they'd just jabbed into his arm without his notice, taking yet more blood, as if he hadn't felt woozy enough.

He still didn't know just how to feel about what had happened. Tank had been attacked without any of them noticing. Scotty had had a near miss with a Hunters claws and he'd smashed his face into the chest of death itself. An overall eventful few days.

Thank God he rotated in four days.

Still though, he'd been a hairs breadth away from oblivion. Zeus was not known for his mercy. The guy…virus, thing killed anything and everything indiscriminately, he smashed tanks with his bare fists, he leveled fucking buildings just by throwing himself at them. So why the hell was he still breathing, and in _one piece_ for that matter? So many questions, no few answers.

Another downside to that little encounter had gained the squints attention. Black Watch was still taking an interest in him, and he didn't know whether to fear another reassignment under them or a bullet to the back of the head in some dirty back alley for glimpsing Gentek's 'dirty little secret'. Big brother was indeed watching him now.

He was just in the hall to the sleeping quarters when Rigsby suddenly appeared in a doorway behind him. "Jane, in my office." His CO called, and Marcus sighed before turning on his heel to follow after the man. He entered the Sergeants office and closed the door behind him.

"What can I do for you sir?" He asked out of habit as the man sat himself behind his desk to pull out some paper work. Rigsby glanced up at him with his forest green eyes, and Marcus sat himself in the chair in front of the desk at the look.

"I want you to be careful for the remainder of your stay here, Captain." Rigsby said as he signed off on something. Marcus frowned.

"Sir?" He asked. Rigsby sighed.

"Your little stunt with Zeus has drawn the wrong kind of attention from the higher ups." He said in way of explanation. Marcus frowned harder.

"Stunt?" He asked, annoyed. "How is my barely surviving an encounter a 'stunt'?" He hissed. Rigsby glared at him for his tone and Marcus shrank back into his seat.

"It wasn't just that, Jane." He said, flipping through some more papers. "Black Watch has eyes and ears all over the damn city. They saw everything, Jane, and a little birdie has told me that they liked what they saw." The Sergeant continued. Marcus' brows shot into his hairline.

"I bed your pardon? 'Liked what they saw'? What is this, a German porno?" He asked, confused and slightly dismayed. Rigsby snorted.

"Hardly. They've been working on something over on Alpha site, and they've been looking for…volunteer's for a new program of theirs." His CO said carefully. Marcus' brows lowered and his face twitched.

"Volunteers…Program. What the fuck are they doing now? Aren't their freaky Super Soldiers enough?" He asked, exasperated. Rigsby slammed his hand down on the desk, sending papers scattering to the floor.

"Damn it Marcus I'm trying to warn you here!" The Sergeant snarled, causing Marcus to draw back in alarm. "They've taken an unhealthy interest in you, to dumb it down so even _you_ can understand, they're probably going to make you _disappear_." Silence descended after that statement, and Marcus swallowed thickly.

"Shit." He Muttered. Rigsby snorted as he straightened his uniforms cuff.

"Shit is right." He agreed. "I want you with your squad at all times. I've lost enough of my men to those ass holes. I won't lose one of my best." Marcus opened his mouth to comment on that, but a glare from his CO silenced him quickly. "Watch yourself, Captain. Dismissed." Marcus rose without another word, glancing at his CO as he left the office in numb silence.

* * *

Later, Marcus entered the sleeping quarters in silence, making his way over to his bunk with slow steps. He reached his bunk and slid onto it with a sigh, rolling onto his side to stare at the opposite wall. The room was silent save for the soft snoring of Golfer, who was dozing on his own bunk by the back. _"I am so screwed." _Marcus thought as he closed his eyes. Good thing he had written his Will. Stacy was going to be one set girl soon. He scrubbed a hand over his face. _"Damn it man, don't think like that. You're going to get through this, no Black Watch or Gentek pansy is going to snatch you." _He thought to himself. "I won't let them." He murmured to the darkness in front of him.

. . .

It must have been a few hours later that Marcus woke up from a light sleep. He squinted at the wall in front of him for a moment before rolling onto his other side to stare into the darkness around the room. When his eyes focused properly he spotted the sleeping forms of his squad, all in various positions sprawled on the bunks, all snoring in varying volumes. Out of habit, he glanced to the noobs bed, only to frown when he didn't see Scotty curled in on himself on his bunk. With a sigh he hauled himself out of bed, grimacing as his stiff body protested the movement after being motionless for so long.

He stretched quietly before grabbing his boots off the floor, not remembering taking them off when he'd fallen onto his bunk. Must have been Murphy, he decided as he laced them up quickly. With a quick tap of each toe to the floor, Marcus quietly crept out of the sleeping quarters and out into the dimly lit hall. He picked a direction and started walking, heading for the mess hall. Scotty usually camped out in there when he had sleepless nights, and it was usually Marcus or Murphy who went looking for him when he wasn't in his bunk. The poor kid still had nightmares, being fresh out of basic the kid wasn't fit for this kind of posting so early in his career.

He entered the mess hall in silence, the large room lit brighter than the hall. He glanced around and frowned in confusion at not finding Scotty in his usual seat by the back door. "Scotty?" He called quietly. There was no answer. He frowned. _"Must be in the courtyard." _He decided as he began making his way to the side doors that led out into the small fenced off courtyard in the center of the compound, reserved for the squints and or smokers. He exited the buildings side doors and trudged out into the courtyard, hands in the deep pockets of his black standard issue trousers. His dog tags jingled slightly in the light breeze that picked up in the courtyard and he shivered at the cold breeze. The iar still stank for decay and Infection, but otherwise it was just another cool night in Manhattan. His white under shirt was hardly suitable for warmth out in the cool air, but Marcus brushed his slight shiver off as he searched for Scotty.

"Scotty?" He called again, slightly louder than in the mess hall. He sighed when he didn't hear a response, and turned around to head back inside when he suddenly came face to face with the kid he'd been looking for. He choked back the yelp that wanted to escape as he clutched at his chest. "Scotty!" He wheezed. "You scared the shit out of me." He said, trying to calm his racing heart. Scotty stared at him in silence, and Marcus frowned, feeling a shudder run up his back at the uncharacteristically serious look on the kids face. "Scotty?" He asked, worried and confused. Scotty blinked at him, then moved.

Marcus cursed and dropped under the hand that tried to grab his throat and dodged to the side of a kicking boot. "Scotty, what the fuck man!" He shouted as he sidestepped another kick. Scotty remained silent as he continued his attack, and Marcus cursed as he dodged another swing. "Scotty!" He shouted, trying to snap the kid out of it. Either the kid was sleep walking or something, or the little shit was serious. A foot suddenly lashed out and caught his, and Marcus shouted profanities as his back hit the ground once more, jarring the already bruised muscles. "Shit." He hissed, wincing as he tried to pull himself to his feet. He looked up into the cold eyes of the kid his squad had quickly grown fond of. "Jim?" He asked, forgoing the nickname as the younger male suddenly brandished a syringe.

"Should have watched yourself, Marcus." The other male said, his accent completely gone. Marcus' blue eyes widened in shock, but before he could recover from his shock the pinprick of a needle in his jugular brought on the darkness.

"F-fucker." He wheezed out before his head fell back and once more connected with the ground, oblivion claiming him as the sedative took effect.

* * *

When awareness once again came to Marcus, it was half assed, as if half of his brain had decided to stay asleep. He couldn't move his body, but he was very aware of the bright white light shining directly into his poor eyes, sending knives of pain through his skull, causing his chest to vibrate in a low groan. He felt odd little pricks all over his body, but the feeling was muted, as if there was a layer of water between his skin and whatever was causing the pricks. He sank back into unconsciousness to the sound of muted voices.

* * *

The blinding light once again greeted him as Marcus forced his way back to the land of the living, and the pricks all over his body had faded to be replaced by a steady cold that somehow managed to burn him, like ice that sat too long in one place, burning his skin. He tried to move again, but succeeded only in rolling his head to the side. No longer being blinded by the bright light, Marcus opened his eyes to take stock of his surroundings. He was met with white once more, only this white moved and have splashes of red on it. After a long few seconds of slow thought, Marcus' brain caught up with his eyes and he deduced he was looking at a coat, a lab coat. He felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight, and he was dimly aware of his heart starting to race in his chest. More movement, somewhat frantic caught his eye, and another pinprick in his arm sent him into the world of darkness once more.

* * *

He heard disjointed voices first, when the darkness slowly receded from his mind.

"-pull through-"

"-remarkable."

"-more tests-"

"-soon."

Marcus realized he really wanted to gutt Scotty. He drifted off again before he could remember why that was so important.

* * *

Marcus came too faster than he ever had before, eyes snapping open to the blinding light above him. His body still burned, but not as bad as last time when it had felt like a fire was burning under his skin. This time his body felt warm, like he was running a bad fever. An instant later he realized he was aware, more aware than he'd ever been since he'd been here, wherever here was. Blinking at the bright light that still burned his retina's, Marcus turned his head aside, marveling over the ease in which he'd done it. No lolling around, no numbness, he felt completely drug free for the first time in…who knew how long.

He flexed his body subtly, before rising into a sitting position. He blinked and choked on a groan as his head swam, threatening to knock him sideways off the table he found himself on. Blinking down at himself, Marcus marveled at his own bare chest. He was completely naked, save for a towel tossed over his privates like an afterthought. He looked…Completely unchanged. He was normal, nothing out of the ordinary, no extra limbs, no freaky lumps or discoloration at all.

He almost found himself disappointed as he frowned at his defined abs. After being drugged under the table for who knew how long, at the tender mercies of whoever, quite possibly Gentek squints under orders from Black Watch, he actually expected to wake up as some sort of freaky mutant with bulging muscles and the power to shoot laser beams out of his ass or something.

He was normal. Same ol' Marcus S. Jane.

He breathed a sigh of relief before turning on the table, letting his feet touch the cold sterile floor with a grimace. He wiggled his toes at the cold, but forced himself to rest his weight on his feet. He stood, marveling at the lack of disorientation he had half expected after being pumped full of so many drugs. He rolled his shoulders experimentally as he looked around, finding that yes, he was indeed in some sort of lab. There were trays upon trays of variously sharp tools lined up by the wall, with a small glass fridge full of vials and tubes of some sort of blue liquid. He ignored all of it in favor of looking for any other sign of life other than himself. The lab was empty.

Maybe all the squints were on their coffee break? Marcus thought with a sardonic smirk. He glanced down to his chest once more and glared at the various wires running from it to a machine by the table he had woken up on. He glared at the zigzagging lines and numbers and God knows what else. He walked up to the machine and searched for an off switch, deciding simply ripping the wires off was probably a bad idea that would most likely alert the ass holes that had hooked him up in the first place. He found a small red button that looked promising and pressed it, holding his breath just in case it decided to start screaming at him. A second later the screen went dead and Marcus breathed out an explosive sigh before ripping off the wires, scowling further when he realized someone had gone and shaved off his chest. It had taken him years to grow that light dusting of hair, for fucks sake! Feelings as if his masculinity had been violated, Marcus dropped the wires and turned his back on the silent machine, searching for some clothes.

While yes, walking around in the buff was fun, he didn't fancy walking around a military science compound with his bits hanging out with a possibility of being shot off. Thankfully, he found some green scrubs near the door that he quickly wiggled into. With some pants on at last, Marcus walked up to the door and tested the handle. It was locked. "Shit." He cursed, jiggling the annoying handle. A beep to his left nearly had him jumping out of his skin, and he turned to spot the hand scanner on the wall. "Great." He grumbled, turning on his heel to search the room for any exits.

A few minutes later turned up an air vent and nothing else. Gritting his teeth, Marcus realized he had no choice if he wanted out of this hell hole. Staring up at the vent that was easily out of his reach, Marcus questioned the possibility of him even fitting through the gap. He sighed and bunched his legs, just to see if he could actually reach the damn thing to pull the vent off before he looked for something to stand on. He kicked off the floor and reached up to the vent.

And promptly slammed face first into the cold steel surface.

Hitting the ground for the umpteenth time in who knew how long, Marcus clamped a hand over his mouth to stem the flow of obscenities that tried to foul the air of the lab. _"What the fucking fuck!" _He thundered in his head, glaring up at the heavily dented vent that would take someone three times his height to reach. Why had he even tried to jump? He couldn't have reached the fucking vent if he was on a trampoline for fucks sake! Alas, he decided not to think about the surety that had flowed through his muscles as he had stared up at the vent. There was no way in hell his body had known it could do it. No way in fucking hell.

He stared up at the vent for another moment, and then lowered his gaze to his legs in thought. How could he have jumped that high? It wasn't humanly possible. As he thought about jumping, his legs gave an odd twitch, and blue eyes focused on the green fabric of his scrubs. A second later he shrieked in alarm as a black and blue tendril slithered over his scrub clad leg. Scrambling back across the floor to escape the freaky snake thing, Marcus cursed for all he was worth until his back connected with a wall. He was still staring at his leg as the black and blue tendril once again slithered over his leg, a few more appearing as well before disappearing back into the scrubs. With a shaking hand, Marcus gripped the cuff of his left leg, and yanked the fabric up. The bare skin of his ankle greeted him, and he stared in confusion at the unmarred flesh.

"Some good fucking drugs." He decided, shaking his head. A second later several tendrils snaked their way around his ankle and Marcus didn't so much as bat an eyelash. "I am so not fucking surprised at this point." He drawled, watching as the tendrils disappeared once more. "I can freak out later." He told himself as he climbed to his feet to make his way back to the vent. He stared up at it, then sighed. "Fuck it." With that he jumped again, this time somewhat prepared for the impact as he grabbed the edges of the vent and pulled, yanking the cover off. He swung there for a moment, staring at the floor several meters below him. _"…Cool."_ He thought as he returned his attention to escaping. He swung himself up and into the air vent, wincing as his body impacted the cold steel with an echoing thud. He froze for a moment, listening for any sign of breaking supports, before rolling into his knees to crawl through the dark tunnels.

"Tom Cruise has nothing on me." Marcus mumbled to himself as he shimmied through a slimmer portion of the venting system, hands encountering not a single speck of dust as he continued. He passed by his first grating about five minutes later, and he peered down through the gaps, silencing his breathing. He spotted several people all crowded around an operating table much like the on he'd awoken on, and he grimaced as he saw the creature they were cutting open. It was a Hunter, a rather misshapen Hunter riddled with bullet holes and scorch marks.

With a silent inhale he continued on, and it was a further five minutes later that he jumped out of his skin as an alarm suddenly started blaring, red light flashing through the grating ahead and behind him. He calmed his racing heart and quickly crawled further up the vent, where he once more peered down through a vent. He spotted two Black Watch troopers speaking with a scientist.

"Shit, that's a Code Red." One of the troopers spat. The scientist pulled at his greying hair.

"Fuck, Ares must have overcome the sedatives again, I told those morons to up the dosage!" The squint shouted before taking off out of sight, quickly followed by the two Black Watch troopers. Marcus stared down at the floor through the grating.

"_Who, or what the hell is Ares?" _He thought as he continued through the vent, navigating the sharp corners with a little effort. He'd just passed by another grating when something to his left suddenly lit up red and started screeching at him. It took him all of five seconds to realize it was some sort of sensor, and that yes he'd been found. With a curse, Marcus redoubled his efforts to escape, crawling as fast as the narrow space would allow. Just as he thought he was in the clear of those damn sensors, the floor suddenly disappeared out from under him, and he tumbled out of the ventilation shaft with a yelp. He closed his eyes, ready for another hard meeting with the ground but snapped them open as his feet hit first, and he teetered sideways as the shock cost him his balance.

He regained his balance quickly, and stared at his feet, then up to the vent with wonder. "Now I'm part cat? What the hell?" He asked thin air as he leveled his blue gaze back to the red lit hall in front of him. "Escape first, freak out later." He reminded himself with a nod as he kicked off the ground into a sprint, by passing doors and windows as he went. He skidded around a narrow corner and nearly collided with a woman in a white coat, who took one look at him and screamed. He winced at the volume and pitch as he tried to hush the woman, frantically waving his arms around in shushing motions before he finally decided to hell with it and shoved past the shrieking scientist, not noticing as she collided solidly with the wall after he shoved her aside, where she slid to the floor in a crumpled heap.

"Exit exit, where's the freaking exit." He chanted to himself as he shoved another squint out of his way, this one sent tumbling through a window. He had just rounded a corner with a green exit sign pointing his way to freedom when he suddenly ran face first into something hard once more, sending him stumbling backwards. _"I swear to God if it's-" _His thoughts trailed off as he stared at the massive soldier in front of him, and with rising dread realized it was a Super Soldier. "…Crap." He breathed, staring up at the truly massive man.

"Do not move." Its voice crackled through some sort of intercom in its mask, and Marcus felt a hysteric giggle bubble in the back of his throat.

"You need to lay off the 'roids, man." He quipped, staring at the massive arms wired with tubes.

"Do not move." The Super Soldier repeated as Marcus backed up a step.

"Er…" Marcus glanced from left to right, looking for any form of escape route. The pounding of booted feet came from the hall behind him, and Marcus groaned as he realized reinforcements were on the way, most likely carrying more drugs just for him. He did not want to go back to that dreamless sleep they kept him in while they did God only knows what to his body, he did not like being so fucking helpless. Hysteria slowly gave way to anger as the booted feet came closer, and Marcus glared at the Super Solider, who suddenly went tense. "I am not going back there." Marcus hissed, feeling his whole body tingle oddly. The Super Soldier hunched forward, readying itself to attack or defend, Marcus wasn't sure, but he was sure as hell pissed enough to attack this ass hole.

A sudden, stabbing pain bloomed into existence along his right arm, and he gasped as the most peculiar numbness spread from his fingers up. He snapped his eyes to his arm, trying to find the cause of the odd sensation only to freeze as his eyes came upon what…used to be his arm. It looked like someone had cut off his arm and replaced it with a Hunters claw, before slapping black and blue paint on it. He dared to flex his fingers, and watched in a detached sort of fascination as the sharp two foot long claws moved. "…Jesus." He murmured, eyes wide. An odd sense at the back of his mind demanded that he look ahead, and he did, just in time to avoid a massive hand that tried to clamp over his head. A second later he swung his arm up, slashing his new claws along the Soldiers face, earning a pained grunt as the beast of a man swung back in surprise.

Marcus glanced at his mutated arm, than reminded himself that he could freak out later. As the Super Soldier regained itself, Marcus jumped over its lunge and swung down with his claws, lodging them deep into the back of the Soldiers head, right into its brain stem. He landed on his feet and yanked his claws free, only to yelp as black and blue tendrils extended from his claws to wrap around the Super Soldier's head, where they then proceeded to literally squeeze the remainder of its life out of it, and Marcus stared as its head exploded in a shower of blood and grey matter. A second ticked by as the dead Super Soldier's body fell to its knees, then onto its front with a loud thud.

Marcus snapped his head around when the sound of several cocking guns hit his ears, and he gulped as he came face to face with a damn firing squad all lined up in the hall.

"Freeze!" One of them shouted, and Marcus glanced at his claw, trying to decide whether he should risk it. _"There's too many of them…" _He concluded. Before he could so much as raise his hand…and claw in surrender, a whistle reached his ears before something pricked the back of his neck. A moment later he was staring at the sideways forms of the firing squad.

"You guys…s-suck." He slurred as the drugs took effect, and he remained conscious long enough to see his new claws melt back into a normal human hand in a swarm of black and blue tendrils.

* * *

**A/N Bet you guys didn't see that coming! Cute, adorable Scotty –sniff- Next chapter should be posted later tomorrow, I got stuff tomorrow morning. I'll get started on chapter three tonight anyway to give myself a head start. This fic is unbeta'ed because having a Beta has proven to be to tedious, so I beta my own work now…If there are any major mistakes lemme know so I can fix em. So, signing of until next time!**

**~Youkai**


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